by Jayne Faith
And so, after many discussions and long debates, they decided there was really only one thing to do: stay and carry out their mission in a new way, colonizing the deep ocean instead of a distant planet. Making use of their on-board science facilities, they modified themselves—and even more dramatically modified their offspring—to be suited to this new environment. Using their manufacturing capabilities, they created vessels to carry them near the ocean’s surface so they could hunt for fish and gather sea vegetables, always taking extreme care to elude the detection of the people living above.
They lived, survived, and even thrived.
Chapter 1
April 2025
The Gulf Coast, United States of America
Talia lifted her wrist to look at her watch, a large-faced timepiece that could withstand the pressure of underwater dives, and sighed. It had only been eleven minutes since she’d last checked the time, but it felt like so much longer. The high-pitched voices of bikini-clad college girls and the lower guffaws and exclamations from college boys grated on her eardrums.
Sipping the last watery remnants of her rum and Coke, she looked out at the dark ocean. Or tried to, anyway. The party lights from the tiki bar made it nearly impossible to make out the water line, but as she watched, there was a faint greenish arc of light, briefly illuminating the distant horizon. The color of the lightning was a bit unnatural, but maybe it meant a storm was heading their way. She hoped so—with a storm coming, she might be able to persuade Janelle to go back to their hotel, change, and find a restaurant where they could stuff themselves with fried seafood. She watched the dark ocean, hoping to see more stormy signals. There was another flash, fainter than the first.
Talia glanced at Janelle, who stood a few feet away holding a large plastic cup and talking animatedly to three guys who looked nearly identical in their baseball caps, board shorts, flip flops, and dark tans. The lights show out at sea seemed to have ended, so Talia dumped her drink cup in a trash can and pushed away from the safety of the thick wooden post that anchored one corner of the bar.
She waited until there was a pause in the conversation, during which Janelle gave a deep-throated laugh and all three boys ogled her surgically enhanced cleavage, and then Talia threw an arm around her friend’s neck. Talia tilted her head so her mouth was close to Janelle’s ear. “Can we get out of here? I’m not sure how many more rounds of undergrad grab-ass I can watch.”
Janelle turned to her, and the boys drifted away, already back on the hunt.
“Aw, come on, Tal, live a little!” Janelle reached down with her free hand and tugged Talia’s short sarong lower on her hips. “And show off those abs, girl. If I had a stomach like yours, I’d walk around in a bikini every day of the year, rain or shine.”
Talia gave her an affectionate smile. “You’re way too smart to be out here with these guys. You can do so much better, you know.”
Not to mention that at twenty-six they were both way too old—in Talia’s opinion, at least—to be mingling at one of the most infamous spring break spots in the United States. And although Janelle had a body a Hooter’s waitress would envy and loved to flirt, there was a lot more to her than that. She’d graduated at the top of her class with a degree in computer security and had been offered a six-figure job with a fat signing bonus right out of college. One of her first purchases, after paying off a large chunk of her student loans, was her more-than-ample chest.
“It’s not like I’m looking for a husband, I just want to have some fun.” Janelle took a sip from her plastic cup, which contained some sort of awful-looking bright blue concoction. “I never got to do this when we were undergrads. I was too busy working my butt off.”
“Yeah, I know.” Talia relented a little.
She’d been right there with Janelle, head in the books, for the four years they were undergrads. Janelle’s thing was computers, but Talia didn’t have much interest in coding or machines. She’d always wanted to save the world. As a teenager, she’d decided the best way to do it was to study and cure deadly diseases. Four years double-majoring in biochemistry and mathematical modeling, and then she was on to an MD-Ph.D. dual degree. She understood what Janelle was saying—she’d been working her ass off for years, too—but partying with a bunch of drunk undergrads? She could think of better ways to spend their rare week of vacation.
Janelle cocked her head and grinned. “Hey, maybe I’ll meet some rich foreign prince who’s here in disguise, slumming it with American college kids.”
Talia grinned back. Even at twenty-six, Janelle was still a believer in fairy tales, sure that some handsome stranger would sweep in and whisk her away to some romantic life in an exotic land. Talia was way too focused on work to share her friend’s fanciful imagination.
“Can we at least get away from this awful bar? Maybe go down there a while?” Talia used her arm around Janelle’s shoulders to start steering her toward the dark beach.
A knowing smile spread across Janelle’s face. “You’re such a water baby.”
Talia slid her arm away and gave her friend a sheepish grin. It was true. She’d chosen an MD-Ph.D. program in a Gulf Coast state so she’d be near the ocean, and she knew she was lucky that one of the top virology programs in the world happened to be located near some fantastic beaches.
Her father had wanted her to become a doctor like him and couldn’t believe she wouldn’t be using her MD to go into practice, but she wasn’t interested in working with people. She preferred to work with viruses, which made her again question how she’d ever let Janelle talk her into coming here. Just about anywhere else would have been less crowded and obnoxious.
As she and Janelle left the blaring music and flashing party lights behind for the relative peace and darkness near the water, the tension in Talia’s shoulders started to ease. The tang of salt in the air and the soothing swish of gentle waves over sand was a welcome relief from the rowdy noise and mass of bodies.
She glanced over at Janelle, dressed in a string bikini with a top that revealed a generous amount of side boob, a flowy scarf tied in a headband to hold back her dark waves of hair, and an anklet with tiny charms and bells that tinkled when she walked. On the dark beach everything was cast in shades of gray, but she knew Janelle was already golden brown from a couple of days in the sun. Her Mexican heritage on her mother’s side gave her an ability to tan without burning that Talia had envied since they first met during freshman year. Her own Irish and Russian background was no help at all when it came to developing a sun-kissed glow.
Janelle had convinced Talia to put on the only two-piece swimsuit she owned—a sporty surfing bikini—but Talia had insisted on the sarong. And her diving watch, of course. She never left home without the thick timepiece strapped around her slender wrist. In a waterproof zippered pouch, Talia carried her own I.D., Janelle’s I.D., both their phones, some cash, and Janelle’s credit card. Talia wore the pouch on her wrist by the strap, like a clutch. Janelle had given it a doubtful look—it certainly wasn’t fashionable by her standards—but relented when she realized that she could put her own things in it and go to the beachside bars without a purse or bag.
Talia bumped Janelle’s arm with her elbow. “Thanks, I really needed a breather.” Talia jumped sideways as a group of stumbling, giggling girls nearly plowed into them.
“Hey, whatever keeps you out here among the people,” Janelle teased.
“I’m not that bad! I went to that party with you.”
“You mean the Christmas party when you came to visit me? That was three months ago!” Janelle’s throaty laugh drowned out the spring break revelers for a moment. “You need a man in your life. Then he and I can team up and drag you away from your microscopes.”
“Pshh, I don’t have time for a man.”
“You just think you don’t.”
Talia started to form another retort, but paused. She hadn’t been on a date in months. Maybe Janelle had a point. It wasn’t really about having enough time, tho
ugh. When something was truly important, she would find the time for it. But Talia wasn’t interested in finding a man, settling down, and having a family. Her ambition was singular: she wanted to eradicate at least one infectious disease. Maybe three or four of them as a stretch goal. Hey, no one had ever accused her of aiming too low. A relationship would just distract her and pull her off track.
She’d been asked out plenty of times through college and grad school and dated a little. But her goals were so much more important . . . and if she were really being deep-down honest, she’d just never met a guy who interested her enough to continue beyond a month or two of dating. When she did sleep with one of them, it was often more out of convention or expectation than any wild desire. And frankly, all of that was just fine with her.
Talia slowed and angled toward the small waves, partly to avoid another drunken group of undergrads heading straight for them, and partly out of eagerness to feel the water on her skin. After the college kids passed, Janelle joined her. They stood looking out at the ocean, letting the water lap around their ankles.
“Mm, this was a good idea,” Janelle said. She flicked her foot across the water, sending up a little spray.
There was a guttural grunt behind them, and Talia twisted around. “Something’s back there. Did that sound like an animal to you?”
“Um, no.” Janelle snorted a laugh. “I don’t think it was an animal.”
The sound came again, this time accompanied by a higher pitched voice emitting a series of Yeahs and Ohs that were growing louder and more urgent.
Talia squinted into the darkness just long enough to make out the forms of a couple of bodies on the sand about ten yards away—a girl straddling a guy and bouncing up and down with great enthusiasm—then turned back to the ocean with a groan. “At least they’re having a good time.”
“When was the last time you had that kind of fun?” Janelle asked. Talia couldn’t make out her friend’s expression but could imagine her appraising, arched-brow look.
“A lady never tells,” Talia shot back with a laugh.
Actually, now that she thought about it, it had been nearly six months. A bit long even for her. She frowned out at the ocean, watching the moonlight play in changing shapes on the surface of the water. But she clearly didn’t miss it much, if she hadn’t even realized it had been that long.
Thoughts of men and sex faded from her mind as something out in the dark ocean caught her eye. She cocked her head. A group of boats? No . . . the mysterious objects were rounded, and moving fast. Clouds? She stepped forward and then looked down with the sudden awareness that water was no longer lapping around her ankles. The water was as still as a lake.
Something felt off. The ocean was always in motion, but right now there was an unnatural quiet. Something was definitely wrong. There was an odd, low sound in the air—more a vibratory sensation than a sound—that she couldn’t place.
“Janelle, I think we’d better get away from—” A shriek cut her off, and Talia whipped around, her heart in her throat. But then the shriek dissolved into drunken giggling.
“What’s wrong?” Janelle asked, a nervous edge in her voice.
“I’m not sure, but . . .” Talia looked back out at the ocean, and she could swear there was a dark shape where there’d been nothing just a moment ago. She shook her head. “The water. It shouldn’t be so still. It’s supposed to be almost high tide right now. And there’s . . . something out there.” She pointed at the horizon.
There was a soft boom, like a distant clap of thunder. Talia probably wouldn’t have even heard it if they’d been back at the bar.
“What the hell was that?” Janelle was twisting around now, too.
Talia hesitated only a second before grabbing her friend’s wrist. “Let’s get out of here.”
But just as they turned to head back toward the bar, there was a violently bright flash of green light behind them. By sheer luck, Talia was facing away from it. Janelle wasn’t so fortunate; she screamed and pulled her wrist away from Talia’s grasp to slap her fingers over her eyes. Her plastic cup dropped to the sand and rolled away.
Drunk college kids were starting to move toward the water, apparently drawn by the light. Blinking spots from her eyes, trying to see around the afterimage left by the flash, Talia grabbed for Janelle’s elbow just before they were engulfed by a mass of pitching, hollering people. Talia tried to fight against the flow, but there were too many moving bodies and they were too inebriated to get out of her way.
She changed tacks and tried to move laterally along the beach and away from the thickest part of the throng. But she forgot about the rocky, jagged outcropping at this end of the beach that blocked the way to the next beach over. She whipped her gaze back and forth just as there was another flare of green light, this one a normal flash like sheet lightning. The crowd let out drunken cheers and hoots in response to the light.
In the brief moment of illumination, Talia saw an escape—even though it should be high tide, the water had receded enough that they could make it around the rocky point.
She headed for the rocks, splashing through little pools of water and tugging Janelle along. Despite the party atmosphere of the crowd, her pulse was in an all-out sprint, as if trying to urge her to move faster.
Away from the crowd, she could finally try to talk to her friend. “Are you okay?”
Janelle was blinking rapidly, but she nodded. “I think so, except everything is covered in black blobs.”
“Your poor eyes. They just need some time to recover.” Talia helped Janelle over a patch of rocks and kept a hold of her hand. Talia angled toward higher ground, straining to pick out the best route in the darkness.
“What’s happening? Some kind of storm?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. It’s not like any storm I’ve ever—” Talia’s words were interrupted by Janelle’s scream just as she realized the water was rising again.
Just as Janelle tripped, Talia stumbled in the swirling water and lost her grip on her friend’s hand. Talia turned to see the water swelling up, a rogue wave that was seconds away from crashing down on them.
Except it wasn’t a wave. Every muscle in Talia’s body went rigid as she watched an object rise out of the ocean, an enormous dome shape breaching the surface and sending water cascading down its sides. A green arc of electricity bolted over the surface of the dome—or maybe inside it?—and dissolved back to darkness. Talia caught sight of more domes rising up back where the college students were milling along the shoreline. And the water was rushing in, already churning up to her knees and rising at an alarming speed.
Talia lunged, tripping as she tried to reach for her friend’s outstretched hand. “Janelle!”
Something had a hold of Janelle, and it was dragging her out toward the dark dome. Splashing after her friend, Talia fell when something sharp jabbed into the bottom of her foot. She went down, her chest and stomach dipping into the water and her hands hitting the sandy bottom. When her knuckles knocked against a small, jagged object, she automatically wrapped her fingers around it, hoping it was something she could use as a weapon. Pushing back up to her feet, she clutched the shard of shell she’d found, feeling its sharp edge against her palm.
She frantically struggled forward, but Janelle was being pulled under. When her head disappeared into the water, Talia shouted her friend’s name and pushed herself to go faster. The water was nearly to her chest now, and it was still rising. In the dark, it was impossible to see where Janelle might be. Every second mattered. If Janelle stayed under much longer, she’d surely drown.
Talia dove at the spot where she’d last seen Janelle. Flailing her arms around in the cold water, Talia searched blindly.
After a long minute Talia had to surface for air. The sounds of panicked screams met her ears. Now the college kids were fleeing away from the rising water, but there were cries of female voices and splashes of struggling forms in the shallow water. Others were being dragged out to sea l
ike Janelle.
Another flash of green light arced over all of the domes. Talia whipped back to the ocean and the dome looming a few yards away, her chest tight with panic.
“Janelle!” she cried, salty spray filling her mouth as she treaded water.
The wind had picked up and was gusting rhythmically, throwing up small waves and splashes.
Something solid brushed Talia’s shin, and tried to wrap around her lower leg. She gasped and jerked her legs up. Again, something seemed to grasp at her, this time around her ankle. She kicked out, trying to pull away as more fingers, or tendrils, or something, bumped against her.
With a spike of adrenaline fueling her, she turned toward the shore. She shot forward with a strong kick and launched into the fastest crawl she could manage. But an iron grip encased her ankle and yanked her back and down so abruptly, she barely sucked in a breath before going under.
Kicking madly against whatever was holding her, she suddenly remembered the sharp shell still clutched tightly in her hand. Doubling over to get closer to her attacker, she slashed down. The shell hit soft flesh, and the hold on her ankle released. She stuck her makeshift weapon between her teeth and scooped water down and away in strong strokes, struggling toward the surface.
But just as her head rose high enough to allow a desperate gulp of air, something wrapped around her waist and pulled her back under.
She slashed out again, but this time her attacker’s grip stayed firm. The shell slipped from her fingers. Something was pulling her down . . . down . . . The sound of swirling water and her own panicked pulse filled her ears. She was out of air. This was it. She was going to die in the ocean she loved so much.
Her body screamed for oxygen, and she choked back the urge to inhale.
Then something pressed against her face, and bubbles tickled her skin and went up her nose. She coughed and then reflexively inhaled.